Full Moon Hike by Julie Steimle (ebook e reader TXT) 📕

make out their silhouettes in the shadows through my sunglasses, so I lifted them. I could see better in the dark than anybody, a vampire trait. In the dim, I peered at them and spied what I realized were those three hunters. They were dressed differently, in camouflage this time with hats. They had other rifles in their hands, and they crept up the mountainside, trying not to be seen. No one else but me had noticed them. Dawn and Travis were talking about the summer picnic our town usually held on the Fourth of July, wondering if we would be going to that or not, while Will walked ahead of us on the path, listening to his MP3. I had been taking up the rear for most of the way since Dawn had caught her second wind, and we were all walking at slower pace, taking more breaks. But in the distance over their conversation, I could hear those imps shouting—though through Dawn’s imps constantly suggesting she drop trash wherever on the trail, it was difficult to hear clearly. What was certain was that they had spotted us.

“…shoot her. Accidents happen in the mountains. They’re going to the summit. Just push her off.”

I froze.

“What is it?” Dawn turned, looking at me.

I rushed up to Travis and Dawn, whispering low. “Don’t look now, but I think I see those hunters. They got by the rangers somehow.”

But I should have known whenever anyone says ‘don’t look now’ they’re going to look. Both Dawn and Travis squinted, peering at the dark under the trees, both of them searching to see what I had seen.

“I can’t see a thing.” Dawn straightened up. “Can those eyes of yours really see—?”

I slapped a hand to her mouth. “They can hear us.”

“No better than us, them,” Dawn murmured.

But Travis rushed from us up the hill and pulled one of Will’s earphones out of his ear. At first Will was annoyed but then he listened to Travis’s whispers and waited for Dawn and me to come up the hill. When we reached him, Will stared me in face then glanced at the forest where I noticed the three men duck down. He spoke in a lower voice. “Travis says you see those hunters. Are they following us?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. But I think we are headed in the same direction.”

He frowned. Lowering his head to whisper more, he said, “Ok, there are no rangers up here with us, so we need more than ever to stay on the path so they won’t have an opportunity to do anything weird. Eve, if you don’t mind, just keep an eye on them. All of us should act as if we don’t see them.”

“Well, duh,” I said, glancing to Dawn and Travis.

Will smirked, knowing I had tried to keep things inconspicuous. “Fine. But Eve, just in case, be ready to fly.”

“That means I need more sunblock.” I unbuckled my waist belt and slipped off my pack, taking off my button-down shirt next. I always wore a tank top under my other shirts. It was a practice I started since I discovered I had wings that sometimes popped out from the birthmarks between the nape of my neck and my shoulder blades when I get startled, tearing any shirt that sits tight to my skin.

My brother handed over the bottle.

I suppose from where the men were hiding in the forest it looked like we had paused because I was tired. I was hoping it at least. Either way, as I stood there on the path and slathered up my bare arms and shoulders while my sister helped me with my back so that nothing would burn, I noticed the threesome had continued to creep up the mountainside. Their imps still shouted that they ought to at least make spooky animal calls to frighten us, though one suggested shooting at our feet. But I didn’t think that they suspected we knew they were there anymore.

Travis began to sing camp songs to get our minds off of the hunters. Will removed his earbuds and joined in. I sighed, wishing I were at the beach with my surfboard, wishing we didn’t have to climb all day long, but Dawn suddenly chimed in and jabbed me in the ribs to do the same. Tilting my head, I also started to sing the words, almost forgetting that three men with guns had gone ahead somewhere in the forest with some ulterior motive that was obviously against the rules of the wildlife reserve. 

The Wounded

 

We reached the fourth campground just as the sun sank behind the trees towards the horizon. Will cleaned out the fire pit and had Dawn collect pinecones while Travis and I stacked our rather scanty collection of wood next to it. I went out to gather more wood so that we would be able to roast hotdogs and marshmallows and make s’mores, while Travis set up the tents. We brought only two of them. One for the boys and one for the girls. As long as Dawn and I gathered pinecones and wood for the fire, Travis agreed to set up our tent also.

I had lost sight of those three men around the third campground. And since I could not see them, I figured it was safe to stretch my wings and fly about rather than walk. The first stretch felt wonderful, taking my wings from that itchy cramped position somewhere inside my back to at least the span of my arms. It wasn’t broad enough to take me high or fast, but with the trees so close together I didn’t want to risk bruising them with an ill-placed flap. I had learned a while ago that my wings were just as real and tender as my arms and fingers were, sometimes more so. In the past, I had been too careless, so I had a few tears and scars in the skin between each clawed finger of my wings. I carried the wood in my arms as I flapped over the forest floor, diving down whenever I found a good piece. I got back just as Will had made the fire high enough to really start cooking. The light in the sky grew dim.

“Here you go.” I set my wood next to Dawn’s collection of pinecones.

He grinned up at me. “Did you have a good fly about?”

“Not yet.” I returned that grin with a real smile.

I suppose my fangs must have shown because I could see Will twitch as if he was about to flinch yet thought better of it. He gave a small smile and nodded. “Ok. Just wait a little longer, until the sun sets at least.”

Nodding, I walked to one of the felled logs set purposely next to the fire pit for a seat, resting my rear on it. I retracted my wings into my back again. “That’s fine. Then, should I start dinner?”

He nodded, gesturing to his pack. “Go get it out. I think we packed it in my bag.”

Hotdogs.

We always packed hotdogs when we went camping. Will had carried the condiments in his pack, including the pickle relish, which I liked, and the mustard, which I didn’t. In Dawn’s bag were the buns, only slightly smushed. Travis had carried the actual hot dogs and the prepared coat hangers we always used for our hotdog and marshmallow roasting. I had to undo the twist ties that bound them together and set them so the tips leaned over the fire, just in case they were not washed properly last time they were used. In my pack were the fixings for s’mores. I carried them in my pack only because I was the least likely to be tempted to eat them before it was time to get them out. Occasionally, there was an advantage to seeing and hearing imps.

As I set out the fixings for dinner, also opening up the pre-made pasta salad our mother packed in Dawn’s bag, I smelled something funny on the wind. Actually, I thought I heard a gunshot first, but it was distant, muffled by the noises of the trees and all the scurrying animals and insects in them. I first thought the odor was from the hotdogs. When I had opened the package some of the juice got onto my hands, and I had to wipe them off on my shorts. But when I leaned in to sniff them, the smell did not get any stronger. The real source of the odor was somewhere distant, yet growing stronger and more familiar as I stood there taking in the forest air with a deep breath.

“What is it, Eve?” Will stood up.

I shook my head slowly, still listening to the air for sounds. The shouting of distant imps, I was sure I could hear them from across the path and deep into the forest from two places. One imp noise was coming closer rather fast. And unlike the shouts from Travis’s imp that told him to sneak out a chocolate bar from my pack when I wasn’t looking, this one screamed to find that human he could smell and bite it.

My wings popped out. I flew up.

“Eve!” Will called after me.

But I was in the air, my wings high and wide as I listened, going invisible and intangible as the imp blood from my birth mother allowed me to be when I needed it, and I flew through the trees, literally, to where I heard that imp.

It was moving fast at first. I then heard another gun shot. The bullet split the bark of one tree below me, and whatever the imp was shouting at yelped like some kind of dog then scurried towards the campfire, limping. Most normal animals would have been frightened by the fire, but this one was drawn to it. I followed it—then him, realizing that it was a boy, somewhat hairy and ragged, but a teenage boy all the same. He ran like all of Hell was on his heels, looking more and more like a regular boy with each step as he panted, nearing our camp. If he really had any ill intent towards us, I knew I had to stop him from reaching my family. However, even his imps were shouting with desperation, rather than gleefully believing that he would do as they wanted.

I flew straight over his head, materialized back into something solid people could see, and I landed in front of him before he could cross the mountain path. “Come no closer.”

Yelping like a dog, the hairy boy fell back to the trees, peering out at me with wolfish eyes. He panted hard, trembling. His imps screamed for him to bite me.

“What do you want?” I asked, peering at him. I recognized the smell I had detected earlier now. It was blood. His unusual blood was all over one of his legs.

He straightened up, shaking his hairy brown head and walked forward. He was shirtless, wearing jean shorts torn from thorns, and one bullet wound in his thigh. Showing me his mildly hairy, yet empty, hands, his fingernails thicker than average, and said, “Normally I wouldn’t bother you, but—” He then peered at my increasingly red eyes and stepped